ount of the heat in the city. You ask how Stepping
Heavenward is selling. So far 14,000. Nidworth has been a complete
failure, though the publishers write me that it is a "gem." [10]

_Monday, July 4th._--M. is so absorbed in the study of Vick's floral
catalogue that she speaks of seeing such a thing in the Bible or
Dictionary, when she means that she saw it in Vick. I did the same thing
last night. She and I get down on our knees and look solemnly at the
bare ground and point out up-springing weeds as better than nothing. I
had a long call this morning from Mrs. F. Field, of East Dorset. They
had a dear little bright-eyed baby baptized yesterday, which sat through
all the morning service and behaved even better than I did, for it had
no wandering thoughts. Mrs. F. said some friends of hers in Brooklyn
received letters from France and from Japan simultaneously, urging them
to read Stepping Heavenward, which was the first they heard of it. We
have celebrated the glorious Fourth by making and eating ice-cream.
Papa brought a new-fashioned freezer, that professed to freeze in two
minutes. We screwed it to the wood-house floor--or rather H. did--put in
the cream, and the whole family stood and watched papa while he turned
the handle. At the end of two minutes we unscrewed the cover and gazed
inside, but there were no signs of freezing, and to make a long story
short, instead of writing a book as I said I should, there we all were
from half-past twelve to nearly two o'clock, when we decided to have
dinner and leave the servants to finish it. It came on to the table at
last, was very rich and rather good. The boys spent the afternoon in the
woods firing off crackers. M. went visiting and papa took me to drive,
it being a delightful afternoon. The boys have a few Roman candles which
they are going to send off as soon as it gets dark enough.

_July 13th._--This is a real Dorset day, after a most refreshing rain,
and M. and I have kept out of doors the whole morning, gardening and in
the woods. Dr. and Mrs. Humphrey came down and spent last evening. She
is bright and wide awake, and admired everything from the scenery out of
doors to the matting and chintzes within. I told her there was nothing
in the house to be compared with those who lived in it. Here comes a
woman with four quarts of black raspberries and a fuss to make change.
Papa and the boys are getting in the last hay with Albert. M. has just
brought in your letter. We